s, and, without giving him a
formal repulse, did not yield in the slightest degree; and he came no
nearer to seducing her than Martinon did to getting married. In order to
bring matters to an end with her niece's suitor, she accused him of
having money for his object, and even begged of her husband to put the
matter to the test. M. Dambreuse then declared to the young man that
Cecile, being the orphan child of poor parents, had neither expectations
nor a dowry.

Martinon, not believing that this was true, or feeling that he had gone
too far to draw back, or through one of those outbursts of idiotic
infatuation which may be described as acts of genius, replied that his
patrimony, amounting to fifteen thousand francs a year, would be
sufficient for them. The banker was touched by this unexpected display
of disinterestedness. He promised the young man a tax-collectorship,
undertaking to obtain the post for him; and in the month of May, 1850,
Martinon married Mademoiselle Cecile. There was no ball to celebrate the
event. The young people started the same evening for Italy. Frederick
came next day to pay a visit to Madame Dambreuse. She appeared to him
paler than usual. She sharply contradicted him about two or three
matters of no importance. However, she went on to observe, all men were
egoists.

There were, however, some devoted men, though he might happen himself to
be the only one.

"Pooh, pooh! you're just like the rest of them!"

Her eyelids were red; she had been weeping.

Then, forcing a smile:

"Pardon me; I am in the wrong. Sad thoughts have taken possession of my
mind."

He could not understand what she meant to convey by the last words.

"No matter! she is not so hard to overcome as I imagined," he thought.

She rang for a glass of water, drank a mouthful of it, sent it away
again, and then began to complain of the wretched way in which her
servants attended on her. In order to amuse her, he offered to become
her servant himself, pretending that he knew how to hand round plates,
dust furniture, and announce visitors--in fact, to do the duties of a
_valet-de-chambre_, or, rather, of a running-footman, although the
latter was now out of fashion. He would have liked to cling on behind
her carriage with a hat adorned with cock's feathers.

"And how I would follow you with majestic stride, carrying your pug on
my arm!"

"You are facetious," said Madame Dambreuse.

Was it not a piece of folly, he return